He Takes Me On Wild Adventures
Here he is, my friend said, tearing off a pink silk scarf with a flourish.
I was confused. This was just a storybook, right?
Don’t you recognize him? She asked me.
On the cover was a stern looking old guy.
I shook my head “no”.
Don’t you have dreams about him?
I began to laugh, and could not stop.
Not that guy! I told her. He looks a hundred. We are twelve.
I dream of him nightly, she told me.
He takes me to wild adventures.
I believe she is certifiable now.
Maybe she is.
He is Chandu, the Magician, she says. As if that means something.
I beg her to loan the book to me, but she says “not tonight!”
“Tonight we are flying a magic carpet to Egypt.”
I am torn. Should I stay over or run like a hungry cheetah?
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment